


That Which Is Shall Never Die

by xzombiexkittenx



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Episode: s02e12 Tome-wan, M/M, Missing Scene, Murder Husbands, Will Graham's moral dilemma, canon divergant, hanibal's office, hannibal draws fanart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 12:27:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3488279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xzombiexkittenx/pseuds/xzombiexkittenx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starts in Tome-Wan as Hannibal draws fanart of them, and Will has a moral dilemma, but it ends a little differently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Which Is Shall Never Die

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whiskeyandspite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskeyandspite/gifts).



> Whiskeyandspite requested something entirely filthy or entirely adorable for her birthday fic. This is both? Neither? Happy Birthday bb, hope it's a good one.

He feels like Hannibal is suffocating him, all the air taken from the room. There isn't space in his lungs, there isn't space in his head. Hannibal is sitting, drawing, and Will can't catch his breath. There are no roads out of this place. He can't make these decisions and he knows it makes him a coward, but he puts it to Hannibal anyway. Let Jack Crawford face the Ripper. The decision will be made. Will won't have to make it. 

The fire is warm on his skin. He can hear the soft scratch of Hannibal's pencil on paper. Then Hannibal is getting up, close behind him, hands sliding over Will's hips, up his chest to undo the buttons of Will's shirt.

"Are you afraid, Will?" Hannibal asks, relentless.

"Yes," Will says, because they do nothing but lie to each other, except when they tell the brutal truth. "Achilles didn't survive either."

"He did not," Hannibal says. "In his grief he killed so many men he choked the rivers with the dead. He slew Hector, and desecrated the body. And when he was finally brought down, those remaining put the ashes and bones of Patroclus and Achilles together in the same grave."

Will stares into the fire, sweat beading on his forehead. They're standing too close, even now that his shirt is falling off his shoulders. "Is that what you want for us?" he asks. He can't draw enough breath to raise his voice beyond a whisper.

Hannibal undoes Will's belt, his flies, and slips a hand inside. Will isn't hard yet, but his body responds, blood filling his cock. He can feel Hannibal's smile against the side of his throat. "Of course not," Hannibal says. "You are precious to me."

Will's knees feel unsteady so he rests his hands on the mantelpiece, spreading his legs so Hannibal can press up behind him, put his weight into it. His trousers slip down around his thighs but can't go any further.

"What you're talking about is a spree," Will says. "I can't..." The words dry up in his mouth.

"We can do anything," Hannibal says. There's a dull thud as Hannibal's knees hit the floor behind Will, and then his hands are on Will's cheeks, spreading him so Hannibal can lick him open. His hands are unyielding but his mouth is gentle, lips and tongue working until Will hangs his head between his arms and lets himself give in.

He turns his face and groans into one arm when Hannibal licks a thumb wet and pushes it into Will. There's not enough space in his head for himself and for the things Hannibal puts in there. There's not enough space in the room for the both of them. There's not enough goodness in the world to balance out all the hideous things Hannibal has done. But there's room enough in his body for Hannibal Lecter and Will reaches back and catches hold of Hannibal's hair.

"Just fuck me," he says.

Hannibal rises to his feet with a grace Will probably couldn't have managed after kneeling on the floor like that. His erection ruins the lines of his suit, Will thinks, before Hannibal unbuttons. He hesitates, one hand pushing Will's shirt up so he can stroke down the length of Will's back, a smooth glide on sweaty skin.

He doesn't keep condoms in his office, that wouldn't be professional. Of course. Will spits in his own hand and wets Hannibal's cock. Not enough. Hannibal doesn't ask if he's sure, he steadies Will with one arm and pushes in.

Will can't help the way his breath hisses out, the way he inhales in whimpers. "Hannibal," he says, begging for something he won't get. Not here. Not out there. This is his punishment.

But Hannibal goes slowly, so slowly, until Will is sweating and shaking, and it doesn't hurt so much anymore. He's full up with Hannibal; Hannibal's voice in his head, in his ear, his hands on Will's body.

"Never that which is shall die," Hannibal says, holding Will against him. He's breathing hard, hot against Will's skin. "We would live forever."

Will sighs out what feels like the last breath he'll ever take when Hannibal fists his cock, strokes him without mercy. "I know," he says. "But not like that. Please, not like that. We don't have to." He can't catch hold of a thought. It's like being stuck in his fever dreams again.

Hannibal rocks against him, a relentless press inside him and he presses kisses and bites to Will's shoulders in equal measure. "We can do anything," he says again. "Anything you want."

Will shudders out his orgasm, and only flinches a little when Hannibal pulls out of him. He turns, still raw and open, and kisses Hannibal, steals the breath from him. Hannibal isn't as put together anymore as Will thought he was. His mouth is red, sweat darkening the hair at his temples. He looks as feverish as Will feels.

"Burn it down," Will says. His eyes are open so he sees Hannibal startle. He smears his cum over Hannibal's cock and strokes him until Hannibal is the one who is gasping. "Whatever it is you have here, tear it down. Destroy it," he says. "We won't survive here."

"I know," Hannibal says. He kisses like he suspects Will's betrayal already.

"So let's just go," Will says. Something weighing him down snaps free. He surfaces, finally, after so much time drowning. He says it again, so he can taste it. "Let's leave."

Hannibal is looking at him with such wonder in his eyes. Will hung the moon for this monster. He's not cruel enough to steal it back.


End file.
